


Hurt & Comfort

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff, Romance, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-05
Updated: 2004-02-05
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: The last thing Brian expected to find at the loft after an excruciatingly trying day at the office was a sobbing Justin.





	Hurt & Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The last thing Brian expected to find at the loft after an excruciatingly trying day at the office was a sobbing Justin; not only because Justin did his best not to break out the water-works, but also since he had been trying really hard not to yell at the blond all week. 

"Briiiiaaaaan," the smaller man wailed as his lover set his briefcase down on the counter. His breathing was staggered and irregular, enough that Brian was concerned that Justin would have one of his infamously melodramatic allergy attacks. He began to search for a paper bag when his slight boyfriend launched himself into his arms. 

"Ssshh," Brian comforted awkwardly, rubbing the small of Justin's back. "Take it easy, okay? What happened?" He fully prepared himself for the worst: that Justin had run into Chris Hobbs again; that Ian Gold had sent him yet another CD with screechy violin music and a note that said, "just thinking of you, call me when your asshole fuck of a boyfriend breaks your heart again, love, God"; that Debbie had regaled the boy with tales of her happy hetero love life and the involvement of one, Detective Horvath. 

Justin was finally reduced to sniffles and chanced looking up at his lover, soulful blue eyes still glimmering. "Oh, Brian," he whispered. "I- it's terrible. I - I MURDERED A FISH!" he wailed.

Brian's reaction was delayed. " . . . a fish?" he asked numbly, holding Justin at arm's length. "You got this worked up over that stupid ten-cent feeder fish? It would have been better off as sushi, anyways," he exclaimed. 

This was not the compassionate sympathy Justin was hoping for. "B-but it was a good fish. I named it Michaelangelo and fed it twice a day and made fishy-faces at it and everything. And then I came home, and said, 'hi, Mikey, how's it going?'" -- Brian was only slightly disturbed that the aquarium lurker had somehow garnered the same nickname as his best friend -- "and - and he was floating upside down!" Justin wailed. "Where did I go wrong?!"

Brian contemplated making a beeline for the front door, or even locking himself in the bathroom for an hour, but he'd been making an effort lately to actually sit down and solve the problems that cropped up between he and Justin, not run out, fuck a few tricks, and hope the blond would want to have a go and be too tired to argue when he returned. He took a deep breath; "so," he managed, surveying the room and running a hand through already-tousled brown locks. "How about Italian tonight? My treat." 

'What can I say?' Brian thought as Justin scrambled to grab his coat. 'Old habits die hard.'


End file.
